


The Bug

by NerdyAdjacent



Category: WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Community: wrestlingkink, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Sickfic, stomach bug, throwing up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:57:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a pitiful sight to see such a strong man kneeling in front of a toilet, covered in his own vomit, half dressed in his gear, one shoe on, and his head leaning on his forearms as he heaved into the bowl. He was definitely not going to be able to fight tonight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bug

**Author's Note:**

> Wrestlingkink Prompt:
> 
> Dean, Seth and Roman are my favorite victims. So I want one of them to be really sick and miserable. Preferably stomach flu or food poisoning. Make them suffer. :) And the other two taking care of them. Can be gen or any pairings with them. I would just love it if you could include all three of them. Can be set at any time.

“I swear, I'm fi - _bllaaasrrggghhhh_!”

“You sure about that, Deano?” Roman asked gently, rapping lightly on the arena bathrooms door. He was met with the same puking noise he had been hearing for the past twenty minutes. Dean said it was nerves, but he'd never seen the Lunatic Fringe nervous before a match before, especially not a house show, and especially not one Philadelphia.

“Dean, it's Seth.” Said the half blonde, youngest member of the Shield. “Look, man, you can't go on. Let us take you back to the hotel.”

There was muffled heaving sound from inside the stall and a string of colorful curse words. “I'll...be fine. I just...need a minute…”

Seth and Roman shared a worried look and the same thought.

“Dean, were coming in.” Roman announced a split second before he opened the door.

It was a pitiful sight to see such a strong man kneeling in front of a toilet, covered in his own vomit, half dressed in his gear, one shoe on, and his head leaning on his forearms as he heaved into the bowl. He was definitely not going to be able to fight tonight.

“Dean…” Seth said with a sympathetic rub to his back that was immediately shrugged off. If there was one thing Dean hated, it was being coddled and treated like a child. He never liked to show weakness in any form; either from being beaten to a pulp, or sick as a dog. So Seth let the obvious slight pass over him as he knelt down next to his shield mate.

Dean turned his head on his arms so he could look at Seth without actually lifting it. He scowled at the pitying look he was getting. “I'm fine, Seth.”

“You don't look it.” He responded quickly.

Dean rolled his eyes, stopped for a moment, leaned over, and heaved out what little must be left in his stomach. When he was done, he again leaned his head on his arms and looked at Seth, utterly exhausted and defeated. “I'm not fine.”

He offered his sick friend a small smile and patted him on the shoulder. “Let's get you back to the hotel.”

Dean nodded weakly and again turned to empty his stomach into the toilet. Seth looked at Roman who nodded in silent understanding before leaving to let someone know that the Shield wouldn't be performing tonight and why.

By the time he returned, Seth was already helping Dean into a pair of sweatpants and a new t-shirt, and arguing like they always did.

“I can...do it...myself, Seth.” Dean mumbled, eyes already half closed from exhaustion.

But Seth never took Dean's crap. He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest and watched. “Fine, pull your own pants up.”

Dean tried to do just that with an angry frown and a grunt of frustration when he couldn't even stand up on his own. Seth just grinned like a mother with a stubborn child. “That's what I thought.”

The process moved a bit faster with Romans help, but they still had to stop several times for Dean to throw up. The show was already well underway by the time they packed their gear, dropped Deans off to be cleaned with an apology and a hefty tip, and made it to the rental car.

When Dean heard the crowd, he seemed to perk up slightly as he draped his arm over Roman's shoulder for support while Seth pulled the car around.

“I...I'm feeling better.” He mumbled. “Maybe we can still make the...main - _bllllarrrghhh_!”

Roman thanked whatever God was listening that Dean at least had the good sense to turn his head before puking all over the sidewalk.

“Never mind.” He whimpered.

Roman offered him a small pat on his hand and lead him to the car. He handed him a plastic bag with instructions to puke into that if he had to, before he slipped in next to Seth with a worried look. “He is very sick.”

“Yeah.” Seth answered with a sigh and a quick glance into the backseat from the rear view mirror. Dean was so exhausted, he was barely conscious, but had enough energy to flip him the bird. “At least his middle finger still works.”

Roman laughed, Dean puked, Seth shifted into gear and drove toward their hotel.

Twenty minutes and three plastic bags later, they arrived.

“I think...I think I just threw up...salad.” Dean mumbled from the back seat. “I don't remember eating salad.”

“Alright, buddy.” Roman said as he damn near hoisted Dean from the back seat. “Time to go.”

Dean responded with, “Don't...patronize me, Reigns…”

They had to make a pit stop in the lobby bathroom, but made it to their room fairly quickly. Roman laid Dean on one of the beds and helped him arrange himself on the pillow. That only lasted for about three minutes before he was up and bolting for the bathroom door.

“I'll go see if the hotel gift shop has any Gatorade and crackers.” Seth offered and didn't wait for a response from Roman.

Roman sat on the edge of the tub as Dean continued to vomit into the toilet. He had thrown up so much, there wasn't even anything coming out anymore. He was just dry heaving into the bowl as tears and snot ran down his face from the effort.

“How you doing?” He asked while Dean was in a lull.

He snorted a small laugh, “I'm peachy. Can't you see the joy and excitement on my -”

He was cut off by another round of dry heaving. Roman rubbed his back in an effort to soothe and was pleasantly surprised it was accepted. Granted, based on how Dean was barely able to balance on the toilet bowl, he wasn't sure he would have the energy to shrug him off like he had Seth.

“Seth went to get you Gatorade and crackers.” He offered.

But Dean shook his head, “I'm not putting anything in my stomach. I'm never eating again.”

Roman smiled a little at that. Dean sounded like his daughter the last time she had a stomach bug. So he told him what he told her in exactly the same way, “You have to have to at least drink or you'll get dehydrated.”

“If I offer you all the money in my wallet, will you put me out of my misery?” Dean asked before heaving into the toilet again.

Roman chuckled. “Stay here, I think Seth just came back.”

“I...ain’t goin’ anywhere, trust me.”

Roman exited the bathroom just as Seth dropped a few bags on one of the beds. “I got ginger ale, saltines, pepto bismol, that weird flavor Gatorade he likes, and the lady at the desk recommended Coke Syrup for nausea...so I got that too.”

They both turned at the sound of Dean hurling into the toilet, moaning, and doing it again. “Still the same, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Dean was lying in the fetal position on the bathroom floor when Seth walked in. He placed down the Gatorade in front of Dean's face, complete with bendy straw, and smiled briefly at the frown he received in reply. But, Dean at least had enough sense to sip from the drink. “How you feeling, champ?”

“Fucking glorious.”

“Good to hear.” Seth chucked and took up Romans spot on the edge of the tub.

“I've never been this sick in my life, Seth.”

“It happens to the best of us, dude.” The half blonde offered. “There was this one time -”

He was cut off when Dean scrambled to his knees and immediately threw up what little Gatorade he had drank.

Roman had entered the small space with a few pillows and blankets, handing some to Dean and some to Seth. Though he took them, Dean didn't seem to understand what was going on, so Roman clarified. “It would appear that you're spending the night right there. So, to make sure you don't choke on your own vomit, Seth and I are going to sleep in the tub.”

He looked like he might protest for a few seconds, but gave up when another wave of nausea hit him hard. When he finished, Seth helped him arrange the pillow and blanket on the cold tile while Roman situated the tub for he and Seth.

By morning, all three were passed out in the bathroom. Dean had finally stopped throwing up by three am and laid in the fetal position on the floor. Seth had one leg wrapped over Roman and the other over the tub and against Dean's shoulder. Roman was snoring loudly with both feet hanging over the edge of the bathtub and his head resting uncomfortably against the faucet.

That's when it hit. Seth sprang to his feet, kneeing Roman awake and damn near tripping over Dean as he rushed to the sink mere seconds before hurling his guts up.

Looks like this bug was sticking around.


End file.
